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‘The instigator of that ghastly massacre, and leader of the military group, was Captain John Campbell of Glenlyon,’ he said in a voice that gritted with bitterness.
Cathie almost shrank visibly. She fought to control the emotions that were threatening to bring tears, and were also preventing her from thinking clearly. Why was he doing this to her? He didn’t appear to be a man who would deliberately hurt a complete stranger, therefore he must have a reason.
The thought forced her to ask a question. ‘You were submerged in all this horror and blood on the snow just as I rang the doorbell?’
He drew another hissing breath. ‘I was up to my neck in it. It had got right into me until I was positively seething with a mad rage,’ he admitted bluntly, and in a voice that still rasped with inner fury.
‘And when you opened the door there was a hated Campbell standing on the mat. Right?’
‘Right,’ he snarled, still frowning.
Cathie’s confidence returned to her, then her lip curled as she said with derision, ‘Mr MacGregor—your body might portray a fine physique, but your mind is pathetic when it allows events of so long ago to send you up the wall.’
‘You don’t understand,’ he gritted. ‘I have blood ties with the MacDonald clan.’
‘So, on their behalf, you’re hitting out at me. I’m sure they’ll be most grateful,’ she added scornfully, then turned quickly to Amy. ‘Please forgive me, Great-Aunt Amy, but this had to be said, because from the moment of my arrival this man’s manner towards me has bordered on rudeness—and all because I happened to have been born a Campbell. Really—it’s quite ridiculous to be wallowing in what happened three hundred years ago.’
Amy looked at her in silence for several moments, and then all she said was, ‘Please don’t call me Great-Aunt. It makes me feel a hundred. Just call me Amy.’
A smile of relief lit Cathie’s face. She had expected her outburst to have annoyed Amy to the extent of being shown the door, but that didn’t seem to be the case. However, she said, ‘Thank you—I’d like to call you Amy, but I doubt there’ll be much opportunity before I leave for Edinburgh to catch a flight to Heathrow, and from there to New Zealand.’
Amy’s face reflected her disappointment. ‘My dear—I thought you’d spend at least a few days with me!’ she exclaimed in dismay. ‘Where’s your suitcase?’
‘It’s at the Crieff Hydro where I stayed last night. I’ll sleep there again tonight and leave in the morning.’
Elspeth spoke quietly. ‘Goodness—isn’t that a very expensive hotel?’
‘Yes—but in this case the expense was warranted because it was so near to here.’
Amy began to plead with her. ‘Cathie, dear, please stay with us for a few days. I’ll be so unhappy if you refuse to.’
Baird spoke to Amy, his voice holding undisguised satisfaction. ‘You’re forgetting that Miss Campbell’s flight will be already booked.’ He stared into his cup as though awaiting the result of this remark.
He doesn’t want me to stay here, Cathie thought, a surge of defiance rising within her.
Elspeth leaned forward, her grey eyes regarding Cathie intently. ‘Is it booked—or is it an open ticket?’ she queried.
Cathie hesitated, then admitted, ‘Actually, it’s a Singapore Airlines ticket, but the date is still open.’
‘There now, that settles it,’ Amy beamed. ‘You can’t possibly travel this distance just for a cup of tea. Besides, there’s so much I want to know about your grandmother—all the things she considers too trivial to put in letters. So will you please stay so that we can get to know each other?’
Cathie found it impossible to ignore the plea in the older woman’s voice, and she also knew that Amy was right in asserting that the distance and expense warranted staying for a longer period. Further, there was the fact that her refusal to stay with Amy for a few days would cause her mother and grandmother deep disappointment, so she said, ‘Yes—thank you, Amy, I’d love to have a short period with you—so long as Mr MacGregor can tolerate being under the same roof as a Campbell.’
The glance she flicked across the room showed that his face had become quite inscrutable. And if, as she suspected, he was bubbling with anger inside, it was completely hidden.
Amy appeared to be oblivious to the tension between them as, smiling happily, she said, ‘Now, about your suitcase; Baird will take you in the car to collect it—and he’ll fix everything else.’
Cathie was quick to protest. ‘That’s quite unnecessary,’ she assured Amy hastily. ‘I can manage it myself—’
Baird crossed the room and glared down into her face, his jaw tightening as he rasped, ‘Nevertheless I shall take you to collect it, and I trust you’ll come without further tantrums.’
‘Tantrums?’ Cathie returned his glare, the gold flecks in her hazel eyes flashing sparks as she flung at him, ‘It’s just that I wouldn’t like you to break an arm while lifting a case for a Campbell, Mr MacGregor.’
Amy showed signs of agitation. ‘My goodness, is this how young New Zealanders go on these days? One would almost imagine you didn’t like each other.’
Words that would excuse their behaviour and lighten the situation evaded Cathie, who found herself saying, ‘I’m afraid that some of the men from Down Under get beyond themselves, especially if they imagine they have a girl at a disadvantage.’
Baird gave a short laugh. ‘As for the women, some of them have tongues as sharp as butchers’ knives—especially the redheads,’ he added cynically.
The silence following his words was broken by a sigh that came from Amy. ‘It would please me greatly if you’d both try to be friends,’ she said in a pathetic voice that held a slight tremor.
Baird’s tone became ironic. ‘I’m afraid we can’t have everything we desire in this life, Amy.’
‘Yet you appear to be doing very well for a young man of thirty-three,’ she said drily. She then turned to Cathie. ‘That makes him nine years your senior, because I think Ellen said you are now twenty-four. Isn’t that right?’
Cathie nodded without speaking.
Baird looked pointedly at Cathie as he said, ‘Twenty-four, eh? Surely that’s an age when we should begin to grow up.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she agreed sweetly. ‘However, I’ve noticed some who continue to be a pain in the neck until into their thirties.’
Amy sighed. ‘Really, you two—I can’t understand—’
Baird grinned at her. ‘I’ll get the car out. Perhaps Miss Campbell will be good enough to come to the garage entrance.’
Cathie felt guilty, and the moment Baird left the room she turned to apologise to Amy. ‘I’m sorry, Amy. I’ll try to keep myself under control. I told you he doesn’t like me, and you can also blame this awful red hair for my unruly tongue.’
Amy’s mouth tightened. ‘That auburn hair of his also has a good splash of red in it, but it’s no excuse. I’m sorry he’s like this, dear. I’ve never known him to be in such a cross mood.’
Elspeth said darkly, her broad Scottish accent seeming to be more pronounced, ‘I blame all that tramping through the heather he’s been doing. It has a weird effect on many people filled with Scottish blood. It stirs their roots and they begin to hear the skirl of the pipes out on the hillsides. They see men wearing the kilt, their plaids flung over their shoulders, come marching out of the mist.’
Amy snorted. ‘That’s only after they’ve been on the bottle for too long. But I’ll agree with you on one point—Baird’s roots have definitely been stirred up, and for that I blame his grandfather’s books.’
Cathie said, ‘I’d better not commit the sin of keeping him waiting. He’s mad enough with me as it is—’
She hastened outside to where Baird had backed the car from the garage. He opened the door for her and after muttering a brief thank-you she sat in silence until he had driven up the hill to the Crieff Hydro hotel.
‘I’ll not be long,’ she informed him coldly as the car stopped near the front entrance. ‘I’ll just collect my case and pay my account.’ She then left the car and hurried into the hotel.
A short time later when she reached the office situated in the wide and lengthy hall the woman behind the counter smiled affably. ‘It’s all settled, Miss Campbell,’ she said. ‘That gentleman over there has paid your account. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay—’
But Cathie scarcely heard her. Her cheeks pink with anger, she crossed the hall to glare at Baird who was examining one of the many paintings on the wall.
‘Did you pay my account?’ she demanded furiously.
‘Yes. What of it?’ He turned to look at her.
‘How dare you put me under an obligation?’
‘It was Amy’s request. Didn’t you hear her ask me to fix everything else?’ His tone had become bored.
Cathie’s jaw sagged slightly. ‘I didn’t realise she meant—’
‘You weren’t listening,’ he cut in acidly. ‘You were too busy thinking up bitchy remarks to fling at me.’
‘My oath—hark at who’s talking,’ she snapped indignantly.
‘Get in the car. I want to talk to you.’ He picked up her case and carried it through the wide entrance doors.
‘You mean you want to recount more Campbell atrocities?’ she panted, having to run to keep up with his long strides as he made his way towards the car.
‘Nothing of the sort,’ he retorted abruptly.
Slightly puzzled, she sat in silence while they made their way down the hill, then left the town to drive a short distance to where a factory made colourful paperweights. Baird parked the car, then led her into the showroom where she was allowed only a short viewing of the brilliantly coloured balls and shapes before being led back to the vehicle.
‘Amy will be pleased I’ve shown you this display,’ he remarked nonchalantly. ‘And it will account for the extra time we’ll be taking over the discussion I intend to have with you.’
Even more bewildered, she sat in the car staring straight ahead, waiting for him to begin.
He turned in his seat to face her, his brown eyes watching her intently for several moments before he said, ‘With regard to the hotel account—can you be gracious enough to accept it without fuss?’
‘But there’s no need—’
‘What has need to do with it? It is something Amy wanted to do because she wants you to be her guest. Is that too much for you to understand?’
‘I suppose not,’ she conceded reluctantly.
‘Nor is there any need for you to concern yourself about the expense. Financially, Amy is very comfortable. My grandfather saw to that fact by leaving her the interest from the Glengyle Estate. But you probably know that in any case.’
She felt he was watching her closely, so she ignored his last comment by saying, ‘I saw the name “Glengyle” over the door.’
‘He had numerous business interests, and when he died all his assets went into what became known as the Glengyle Estate. He liked the name because the famous—or infamous—Rob Roy MacGregor was born at Glengyle. You’ve heard of Rob Roy, I presume?’
‘Who hasn’t? But I’m amazed to hear you admit to the infamous aspect of him.’
‘We won’t go into that,’ he declared coldly.
‘I’ll bet we won’t,’ she snapped back at him. ‘Is this what you’ve brought me here to talk about?’
‘It is not. I want to talk about Amy. I want your help.’
Surprise caused her eyes to widen as she turned to stare at him. ‘Let’s get this straight. You’re asking a Campbell for help, Mr MacGregor?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’
His mouth twisted. ‘If you’d rather not hear it we can go home at once.’
‘I didn’t say that. So—how can I help you?’ She was now thoroughly curious.
‘I’d like you to pull your weight in persuading Amy to come to New Zealand for our summer. It would enable her to avoid the Scottish winter, which can be very cold.’
‘Far too cold for one who suffers from arthritis,’ she said with a feeling of sympathy for her great-aunt.
‘I’m glad you can see at least that much daylight,’ he observed, his tone ironic.
‘Thank you—you say the nicest things,’ she retorted sharply. ‘I had no idea I appeared to be somewhat dumb. It must be because I’m a Campbell,’ she added in a chilly tone.
‘No doubt it is,’ he agreed gravely. ‘And there’s something else—we must stop this continual bickering, because it’s starting to upset Amy. Heaven alone knows how it began.’
A bitter laugh escaped her. ‘You dare to ask that?’ she demanded incredulously. ‘How very typical—’
‘I mean I don’t know what the hell got into me. I know I’ve been most unreasonable—and I regret it.’
Cathie recalled Elspeth’s and Amy’s words, but without admitting where her ideas had come from she said, ‘I can guess what got into you. You were beset by ghosts of the past. They rose up out of the pages of your grandfather’s books. They leered at you—stabbing at you with dirks and daggers, and maddening you because you’re unable to do anything about it. They stirred up bitter hatred.’
For the first time he looked at her with real interest as he said, ‘You surprise me. You have more understanding than I’d have thought possible, especially in a woman.’
‘Again, thank you. You’re too kind.’
‘Then it’s agreed? We can be friends?’ he asked lightly.
She thought about it for several moments, but at last she shook her head as she said, ‘I doubt it, Mr MacGregor—I doubt it very much indeed.’
‘You sound quite adamant about it. Why is it so impossible?’
‘Because I know that you would never trust a Campbell. However, we can at least allow Amy to imagine we’re friends,’ she said guardedly.
Baird’s expression hardened. ‘But in the meantime you’ll reject my offer of friendship. Thank you very much.’
She turned to regard him frankly. ‘I can’t believe that friendship is what you really have in mind. To me it sounds more like a truce.’
‘A truce can be a temporary affair. I said friendship, and I meant friendship,’ he said in a tone that had become abrupt.
‘It takes two to be friends,’ she pointed out. ‘Nor am I in the habit of tossing real friendship about quite so lightly.’
‘But at least you’ll show a semblance of friendship for Amy’s sake,’ he persisted.
‘Yes—for Amy’s sake.’
‘Thank you.’
‘There’s no need to thank me. Amy is part of my family.’
‘Then will you accept this as a peace offering?’ he asked, extracting from his pocket a square object wrapped in tissue paper.
She took it from him, then removed the wrapping to reveal an attractive paperweight filled with brilliant colours that glittered and glowed. She had caught her breath over it in the showroom, but it had been too expensive for her to buy.
